I’ve sunken into a reading (and blogging) malaise this week. It’s partly that I’m really enjoying teaching the K-1 chemistry class at co-op, and when I have a free moment my thoughts seem to gravitate toward activities and ideas related to that. I’m not feeling that great this week either, running an ear infection that I won’t have a chance to get checked out till tomorrow night. (Unless I take the girls with me to the doctor, that is. But I try to avoid taking them to waiting rooms filled with sickness unless they’re already sick.)
These things have contributed to my lack of progress in the longer tome on church history I had undertaken, and yesterday I found myself grabbing some long-neglected children’s books at the library — not for the girls, but for myself. This was one of them.
That’s right: I’ve never read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. I remember seeing the Disney movie (or was it only part of the movie?) as a child, and not liking it. I don’t remember much about it, but apparently this impression was strong enough to prevent me from exploring this classic for all these years.
As I was reading it, I thought of George MacDonald, so I wasn’t surprised to find that Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (”Lewis Carroll”) was friends with him, and that it was the MacDonald childrens’ enthusiastic reception of the unfinished Alice manuscript that convinced Dodgson to submit it for publication. It was interesting reading about the story’s origin as an oral tale invented on a boat ride and told to three young girls. Apparently it’s full of allusions to the author’s friends, as well as its share of reaction to the 19th-century political and social world.
I thought of George MacDonald because there seems to be so much more meaning than meets the eye in — well, everything. Yet where MacDonald achieves the effect through many features of the story (word play included), this story does it through nonsense — tricks of logic, word play, absurdity. It’s all quite dazzling. To me, it doesn’t make for a terribly engaging story, but it’s a great show. I might see what my daughters, at least my oldest, thinks of the tale.
The version I read was the ultimate illustrated edition
I’ve never read Alice in Wonderland OR seen the movie. I’m really not with it.
I, too, retreat to children’s literature when I have too much on my plate or when I just can’t settle down to “serious” reading. . . .
I’m sorry about your ear infection and pray for quick healing.
I love Lewis Carroll’s nonsensicalness, and Jabberwocky is one of my favorite poems. I am bothered by his flagitious tendencies.
“Flagitious.” Wow. You’d kill me in Scrabble.
It was amazing how much of the content of ‘Alice’ was familiar to me even though I’d never read it.
I don’t think I want to read the whole Through the Looking Glass, but based on your recommendation I’ll give Jabberwocky a try. I’ve seen bits and pieces, but never the whole thing.
Thanks for the prayer. The ear infection is on the mend.
The thing about Alice (and Through the Looking Glass) is that Carroll says such wonderfully wise things, disguised as nonsense.
“The horror of that moment,” the King went on, “I shall never forget!”
“You will, though,” The Queen said, “if you don’t make a memorandum of it.”
The purpose of blogs in a nutshell. I’ll be posting about Lewis Carroll and some of my favorite quotes form his books on January 27th, which happens to be Mr. Carroll’s birthday.
“The purpose of blogs in a nutshell.” I love that!
I’ve read this book multiple times trying to “get” it and the only time I come even close to feeling its magic is when I hear someone reading bits of it aloud. I love “Jabberwocky” though.
That’s a good way to think of it — “feeling its magic.” I didn’t either, though I thought it was very clever.
[...] FleurFisher (The Coroner)39. FleurFisher (Agatha Christie’s Secret Notebooks)40. Across the Page (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland)41. Upsidedown B (Pillars of the Earth & sequel – Audio)42. Windy Ridge Books (The [...]
[...] Janet at Across the Page just read Alice for the first time, and here are her thoughts. ‘It’s a cravat, child, and a beautiful one, as you say. It’s a present from the White King and Queen. There now!’ ‘Is it really?’ said Alice, quite pleased to find that she HAD chosen a good subject, after all. ‘They gave it me,’ Humpty Dumpty continued thoughtfully, as he crossed one knee over the other and clasped his hands round it, ‘they gave it me–for an un-birthday present.’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ Alice said with a puzzled air. ‘I’m not offended,’ said Humpty Dumpty. ‘I mean, what IS an un-birthday present?’ ‘A present given when it isn’t your birthday, of course.’ Alice considered a little. ‘I like birthday presents best,’ she said at last. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about!’ cried Humpty Dumpty. ‘How many days are there in a year?’ ‘Three hundred and sixty-five,’ said Alice. ‘And how many birthdays have you?’ ‘One.’ ‘And if you take one from three hundred and sixty-five, what remains?’ ‘Three hundred and sixty-four, of course.’ Humpty Dumpty looked doubtful. ‘I’d rather see that done on paper,’ he said. [...]